Ghost in the Wire

Ireland Halloween Special: Four Visitors from the Dark

On the night when the old roads grow quiet and the spirits are said to walk, Ireland has stories waiting in the shadows.

Join Jenn of SableCore for a special Halloween episode of The Ghost in the Wire, exploring four chilling legends rooted in Irish history and folklore.

🐈‍⬛ The Black Cat of Killakee: A mysterious feline apparition haunting an old house in the Dublin Mountains, with dark connections to the infamous Hellfire Club.

🖤 The Cóiste Bodhar: Ireland's terrifying Death Coach, whose midnight arrival is said to foretell a death.

👤 The Fetch: An unsettling double of a living person, appearing where its owner could not possibly be.

🩸 Dearg Due: The tragic tale of a young woman from Waterford whose suffering gives rise to one of Ireland's darkest vampire legends.

Through historical accounts, local traditions, and centuries of storytelling, Jenn explores the mysteries that refuse to fade.

Four visitors. Four thresholds. And some doors are better left closed.

The Ghost in the Wire
A SableCore original podcast.

#TheGhostInTheWire #SableCore #IrishFolklore #Halloween #GhostStories #HauntedIreland

In 1844, something strange was said to be happening beneath a family burial chapel outside Ahrensburg, now Kuressaare, Estonia.

It began with horses becoming violently terrified near the cemetery. Then came the sounds from beneath the chapel floor. When the Buxhoewden family vault was opened, heavy oak coffins were reportedly found displaced and piled in confusion.

Authorities searched for intruders. Valuables were checked. Foundations were examined for hidden passages. The coffins were restored, the doors locked and officially sealed, fine ash spread across the floors and stairs, and soldiers posted outside for three days and nights.

When the vault was opened again, the seals were intact. The ash showed no footprints.

But the coffins had moved.

Some were reportedly standing upright with the dead head-down. One partially opened coffin revealed a shriveled right arm reaching from beneath the lid.

In this episode of The Ghost in the Wire, Jenn follows the Moving Coffins of Ahrensburg from its earliest surviving nineteenth-century account through the official inquiry, the missing archival report, later folklore, and a local cemetery tradition that still remembered disturbed coffins a century later.

Was it flooding, human interference, a story transformed through retelling, or something that never found a comfortable explanation?

The dead were eventually buried beneath the earth.

According to the story, only then did the chapel become quiet.

In 1785, a sealed cellar inside Estonia’s Kuressaare Castle was reportedly opened to reveal a man sitting dead in a chair, surrounded by a cup, bread crumbs, prayer beads, unreadable papers, and the remnants of a life hidden behind stone.

Jenn follows the legend of the Immured Knight through centuries of shifting identities, forbidden love, religious conflict, and local folklore that says his spirit still walks the castle at night. Beneath all the variations remains one stubborn mystery: who was the man behind the wall, and why was he sealed there?

For more than ninety years, the Dumas Brothel operated in the heart of Butte, Montana. The doors eventually closed. According to decades of witnesses, not everyone left.

Women in period clothing appear upstairs. Dark figures move through the basement. Visitors describe unseen hands, whispered voices, objects shifting on their own, and something that occasionally follows people beyond the building itself.

At the center of the haunting is Elinore Knott, a woman whose ghost is said to walk the halls carrying a suitcase. But surviving records complicate nearly every part of her legend, and an older apparition in a black dress and hat may point to an entirely different woman.

In this episode of The Ghost in the Wire, Jenn of SableCore follows the Dumas haunting through decades of sightings, paranormal investigations, evolving legends, and the unsettling possibility that the phenomena have remained more consistent than the names given to them.

Because sometimes the most disturbing question isn't whether a place is haunted.

It's who keeps answering when you say hello.

Miles Fuller was hanged in Butte, Montana, in 1906.

The courthouse people say he haunts wasn’t built until years later.

Employees have reported footsteps in empty halls, elevators moving after hours, falling books, and a shadowy man who seems to walk straight through walls. Stranger still, a historic preservation officer reportedly believed those movements followed the layout of the courthouse that once stood on the site.

Jenn traces the older Miles Fuller legends, the execution-yard apparitions, and the eerie possibility that something is still walking the halls of a building that no longer exists.

At the Lake Worth Playhouse in downtown Lake Worth Beach, the stories have been accumulating for decades. Footsteps in empty halls. Laughter from an empty auditorium. Objects moved when no one was around. A black handprint that reportedly appeared on new paneling and vanished days later. And, above all, the presence staff came to call “Mr. Oakley.”

Jenn digs into the history of Lucien and Clarence Oakley, separates documented facts from the folklore that grew around them, follows reports from theater staff and paranormal investigators, and looks at more recent activity claims from a 2024 investigation.

Some incidents have ordinary explanations. Others remain stubbornly strange.

So what exactly is haunting the Lake Worth Playhouse, if anything at all?

The Ghost in the Wire follows the evidence, the stories, and the spaces in between.

A house moved by hand. An attic with a name attached to it. Ladders that would not stay where they were left.

In this episode of The Ghost in the Wire, Jenn follows the Riddle House from its documented history as a 1905 cemetery cottage through its relocation to Yesteryear Village, then into the stories that gathered around it: Joseph in the attic, Michael upstairs, Buck near the cemetery, Mary in the kitchen, and decades of strange reports that refuse to settle into one clean explanation.

History first. Folklore where it belongs. And somewhere between them, a house that is still carrying signal.